Local TV

It's winter in Michigan, so it must be time for continuous traffic weather reports. While I understand the desire to have on-location shots (it makes for better TV), I wish the "reporters" would at least make an effort.

Here's a tip for our local TV personalities: We know where your station is located. We can tell - just from seeing you on TV - that you're standing in your freakin' parking lot. The road behind you doesn't make you look more adventurous. It's good for a laugh in the morning, though. You stand outside, all bundled up in your carefully-chosen outfit, pretending as if you've been out in the cold for hours. In reality, you just stepped outdoors a couple of minutes ago, and you will hop back inside your studio as soon as your 30 second airtime is up.

Oh, and why did I state "reporter" in quotes? Because you're a TV personality, not a reporter. We all know it, and you'll feel much better if you just admit it to yourself.

More randomness

It's always funny to hear people talk about "stopping the hate" and then hearing them tear into a vicious diatribe against someone on the other side of the political aisle. Do they even realize they are hypocrites?

"Too many cooks spoil the broth." That's a motto that I will have painted onto the walls when I get my new office. I'm not sure if anyone will heed my new motto - which I also might have tattooed onto my arm - but it will help me relax when the next debacle occurs.

What's more important: Excitement or stability? It's pretty much a given that you can't have both. That's a question best left for the bar, I think, when I've had a few more whiskey & cokes.

I'm putting this online just so I actually follow through on it. I'm joining a gym and will sign up for private lessons. Boxing lessons, to be specific - hilarity should ensure. I envision something more along the lines of "Rabbit Punch" instead of "Rocky," though.

The fall of journalism

This U.S. media failed its readers, viewers and listeners during this election season. While one side of the political aisle was questioned and taken to task, the other was given a pass. How will this play out in the future? Well, Chris Matthews has already said: "I want to do everything I can to make this thing work, this new presidency work." That doesn't sound like scrutiny and truth-seeking will be a part of his new mission.

Michael Malone looked at the media's coverage during the election: http://abcnews.go.com/Business/Story?id=6099188&page=1

Victor Davis Hanson has an even less optimistic view of the future of American journalism: http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=OGFhOWY3YTZkMzliYjFjYTlkMjNjMGNhMTc3ZjYyMWM=&w=MA==

This election was an embarrassment for journalism. Let's see if the media will step up to the challenge and use their platforms responsibly.

Random comments

Note to guy walking across campus in a suit and flip-flops: Buy some shoes.

Scooters should use the bike path, not the road lanes. Seriously - my SUV trumps your scooter, and you just can't go fast enough.

I'm amazed at how jay-walkers and jay-bikers think that if they don't look at you, then they're not going to be caught. Sorry, but this isn't philosophy class: the world really does still exist even if it's not in your immediate line-of-sight.

I made the mistake of going back to the cardiologist for a check-up. Here's a free tip: When a doctor says, "For a man in your situation ..." it's time to run from the room. Medication, blood tests and an all-morning stress test next week. I'm in hell.

Dreams and work

I had a weird dream last night that I had gone back to work for the newspaper. It was pretty vivid, too, with me coming into the office and taking back my editor spot at both papers, with the current editor sputtering and freaking out that I had returned.

Now, as much as I loved being a reporter, I am very happy where I am. When I left the paper, I was nervous to start over somewhere else. On top of that, there was the "sell-out factor." If you leave journalism to take a job in PR, you're seen as a sell-out by those still in the newspaper business. Now that I'm on the other side, I see it as an expansion of what I had been doing.

The other point is that Gannett, where I used to work, is in rough financial shape. They're cutting jobs left and right, and there will be more cuts coming by the end of the months. I have the utmost respect for (most) of my former co-workers and I wish them the best, but I can't work someplace that isn't stable.

In dreamland, however, it's fun to go back and hassle the newsroom ...

Naps are good

Difficult meeting today – mainly because I couldn't keep my eyes open.

We had been shooting a video most of the day, and sitting down after 7 hours of walking around hit pretty hard. When I wasn’t in on the discussion, I tried to play with my phone or find something else to distract me.

It didn’t work, though, and I dozed off a few times during the course of the meeting. Hopefully, not too many people noticed. It’s not like I did the full-out snoring (like a certain editor I used to work with), so I’m hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

If it was, I’m sure my fellow Communications Office staffer will be glad to let me know on Monday morning.

Yard sales

(The following is a true story.)

A few years ago, my mom, my sister, my aunt and my cousin spent a day together shopping, eating and hitting yard sales. After consuming a few "pops," they were walking through the neighborhood and came upon a home with all sorts of items on the lawn.

Dressers, clocks, lamps, clothes ... there was a huge selection to look at. While they roamed the yard, they didn't really see anything they liked, but kept looking. They not-so-quietly cattily chatted back and forth ("who would want this?" ... "no, I don't like that at all" ... "what is that?" ..."oh, maybe I'd offer a dollar for it" ... "who'd buy any of this stuff? it's crap") while inspecting - and dissecting - every single item.

While they were looking through the belongings, the woman who owned the house was watching them from the porch. When they finally found something to buy, they took it up to her, asking how much she wanted for it.

The woman glared at the four of them. Her only response: "We're not having a yard sale. We're moving."

They haven't gone yard-saling since.

Trash and treasure

Yesterday, I spent the day cleaning around the house. I took a day off from work because I knew the "to do" list just wouldn't get done over the weekend. Except for the distraction of a "Stargate SG1" marathon on Sci Fi, I did a pretty good job at staying on task.

As I cleaned out the basement (picking up the last wrecked casualties of a recent mini-flood), I tossed out an old NESCO roaster. It was a bit dusty and cobwebbed, and it was missing the temperature knob on the front. I put it out to the road with a pile of other things for the next day's garbage pick-up. About 15 minutes later, when I was going to my car, I noticed the roaster was gone. Someone had stopped, looked at my pile of garbage, and decided it looked like a good deal.

Now, I don't begrudge anyone for taking it. It just felt odd to have someone take it from my yard like that (even though it was being thrown away) and so quickly after I put it out there (like they had been watching to see what goodies I didn't want). Strangely, they didn't take the broken garden hose that I also tossed out.

Thankfully, I don't know many of my neighbors and probably won't be invited over for a potluck. That would be awkward: "Hey, that roaster looks familiar ... why is there a painted bottle cap where the knob should be?"

Life without carbonation

I've been pop-free for 8 days.

Sure, it may seem like a small thing to some people, but it's really a big deal for me. No pop, no Slurpees, no mixed drinks. For those not familiar with "pop," perhaps you call it "soda" or "cola" - or some other weird variation on the theme. It's supposed to be called pop, for the record.

This past weekend, I drank about 10 to 12 glasses of water each day. I didn't really want it, but it kept me from bolting from the house and sticking my mouth under the fountain pop machine at the QD around the corner. The allure of hi fructose corn syrup is strong. Once she's got you hooked, she's a hard mistress to turn away. A dab of syrup, some all-forgiving carbonation and a pinch of flavor ... it's like the nectar of the gods. (And, in the case of the beloved Dr. Pepper, a pinch of 23 flavors. Mmmm....)

But, I'm on the end of the withdrawal. The shakes and cravings have stopped, and I'm not sitting in the parking lot of QD/Speedway/7-11 wondering if I can down a 44 oz. pop before I get home anymore. It will take a few more weeks to make sure that I've completely kicked the habit, but I'm hopeful I'll be strong enough this time.

What's the next poor eating habit I need to kick? Not sure ... I think one a season is the limit for me. Maybe I'll try to do away with chips in the fall.

Posture

I have bad posture when I'm sitting in a chair.

I never really noticed it while I was at the paper. I would sit on the edge of my seat at council/board meetings, ready to bolt as soon as the closing gavel hit the table. There was always a deadline looming (well, as much as there is for a weekly paper) or another meeting to run off to cover. When I was in the newsroom, I would fidget in my chair or see how far back I could lean and somehow balance evenly. Yes, I tend to get easily distracted.

Sitting in meetings now, I find myself still sitting like that, as if I have a deadline to hit. I'm in PR, and there's no real rush nowadays - and I have to remind myself that I have to stay for the entire meeting. No fake cell phone calls to get me out anymore.

Yesterday, I looked around to see how other people were sitting. Apparently, I was the only one in the room sitting like a basketball coach, ready to jump up at the next bad call from the ref. I tried to sit up, using the entire seat, with my back fully against the back of the chair and shoulders straight. That felt really weird, though, and I ended up slouching down again without realizing it.

I wonder if I can use some educational credits to enroll in a posture class ...

Missed reunions and photos

Well, my high school reunion was last weekend. I didn't go, but the organizers did send a "reunion update" book via e-mail. I missed the deadline to give an update on what I've been doing for the last 20 years, but it was nice to read about a lot of my classmates.

Surprisingly, many of them look the same as they did in high school. Well, at least to me - I might be seeing them as they were, though, instead of how they look now. That makes me wonder if they'd see me as I was 20 years ago or if they'd see me as I really look now. (I'm not sure if that's me being introspective or just a stray thought because I'm starving right now.)

Or maybe they just have really good Photoshop skills they utilized before submitting their photos.

Humidity and alien dangers

It's been horrifically humid lately. While today seems a bit cooler, the last 2 weeks have been a blanket of humid weather the likes of which I've never seen. Even when the temp was only in the high 70s, the stifling humidity made it feel like you were swimming through an ocean of boiling water instead of walking outdoors.

There were times I actually had to push myself forward in order to move because of the oppressive atmosphere.

Yesterday, all I could think about was an old episode of "The Challenge of the Superfriends" - the Legion of Doom tricked the Justice League of America into turning the surface of the Earth into a super-heated swamp to make it habitable for the evil Fearians from the planet Venus. (Luckily, the JLA was able to thwart the scheme, in case you were worried about the outcome.)

I don't think the humid weather is an alien plot but, then again, I can't say for certain that it isn't.

And yes, in case you're wondering, everything and everyone that I encounter in my adult life can be related back to a television show or movie. Seriously.

Yard work

I'm not the best at keeping up with my yard work. My dad generally shakes his head sadly whenever he visits, dismayed that his son never picked up on his love for yard maintenance.

Every summer, I plan to change. I buy the right products and equipment, and I set a regular schedule for regular yard work. Unfortunately, those plans all go to heck almost immediately. However, I do tend to do the minimum to keep the yard looking at least semi-presentable.

That all serves as the preamble to my story: Last weekend, I cleaned up some bushes/plants/weeds with the trimmer and weedwhacker. (Yes - bushes, plants and weeds all look alike to me. I'm not proud of that, it's just the truth.) When I cleaned the same area last year, I was covered in itchy blotches from some kind of poison oak or vine. This year, I didn't break out for 4 days. I figured I was in the clear but, over the last two days, the telltale itching has started. It is a torturous nightmare.

This could be a good excuse for me to stop doing yard work all-together. Somehow, though, I don't think that reasoning will change that look of disappointment from my dad when he comes to visit.

End of heroism

I saw the new "Incredible Hulk" movie last weekend. While better than the Ang Lee movie, this version was lacking something important to the original comic book story: Heroism.

In the original comic book origin (reflecting the Cold War), Bruce Banner was a scientist working to develop a Gamma bomb for the US Army. When a teenager goes onto the testing field, Banner risks his life to save the boy. He stops the countdown and runs out to move the teen to safety. When the countdown resumes due to a double agent, Banner gets the boy to safety and is bombarded by the gamma radiation.

In the movie (much like the earlier TV program), Banner is a scientist who develops a gamma machine and tests it on himself. In this movie version, it's the result of a Super Soldier study being done by the Army's General Ross.

By eliminating Banner's sacrifice - putting the teen's safety before his own - he is no longer a hero. Instead, he's a sad sack who just has incredibly bad luck. There's no reason to root for him - he's a dangerous fugitive.

The origin is largely taken from Marvel's "Ultimate" universe instead of the mainstream Marvel Universe created by Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and the other creators in the '60s. This Ultimate universe has no real heroes and is, instead, a world of amorality where there's not much difference between the good guys and bad guys. While popular with the ever-aging readership, writers such as Mark Millar and Brian Michael Bendis showcase the worst traits of humanity, writing a world where there the villains are cool and the heroes don't even attempt to be truly heroic.

A large part of the problem is that so many in the current crop of writers (in TV, movies, music, entertainment - including comic books) grew up reading what they now write. In the past, writers would have been familiar with classic literature. Today, it's more important to have in-jokes and clever asides than to write a coherent and meaningful story.

Tony Snow

This past weekend, Tony Snow died. For those of you who don't know, he was a journalist and former White House Press Secretary. I never knew him personally, but I always enjoyed watching him on TV, listening to him on the radio and reading his columns in the newspaper.

As a journalist, there aren't too many people you can look up to in the industry. Snow, though, was definitely a role model for me. I always enjoyed listening him when he was a regular guest host on the Rush Limbaugh radio program - I actually enjoyed his delivery more than Limbaugh's. The same is true for his recent fill-ins on Bill O'Reilly's radio program - he was just easy to listen to and more enjoyable (for me) than the regular host. Too often, the political debate becomes a personal soapbox where the host's ego gets in the way of making a point. I never got that feeling listening to Snow - he was always on target and had an amazing way of crafting an argument.

When he started the Fox News Sunday program, I was a faithful viewer. Here was a Midwest guy talking to all of the political power players, and he made it seem so easy. There wasn't that East or West Coast haughtiness that you hear in the voices of most TV hosts. He seemed like the guy you'd meet at the grocery store and could chat about anything.

When I became a reporter and (later) an editor, I'd take my best stab at writing opinion columns. While my columns about personal issues came easy, the political ones were always a challenge. Having a discussion with someone on a a topic is much different than being able to write a convincing opinion piece. Whether it was in his columns or the monologue at the end of his TV show, though, Snow had a way of combining policy with personality that few could match.

I was very excited when he took over as press secretary. Now was the time for someone to push back against the press corps - someone who could answer the questions and match wits with them. On the rare occasions I would be able to listen to the press conferences, I felt like I was watching a hockey game - waiting for the gloves to drop and a verbal fistfight to begin. Unfortunately, his battle with cancer cut short his time at the White House, but he set a new standard while he was there.

Sadly, the Associated Press took the opportunity to slam Snow even when they were writing about his death. The snide comments directed at him were completely unprofessional and made me glad I'm no longer in the news business. It's too bad those "reporters" couldn't have taken a page from Snow's book and at least attempt to perform their job with the kind of class he always showed.

Exercise and meal plans

According to the plan I wrote a few months ago, I am now well into my new eating/exercise regimen. As part of the plan, I am now riding a bicycle to work every other day, walking for a half-hour during lunch and have completely stopped drinking pop. Whew.

It's amazing how quickly plans can be derailed.

To say I've fallen off the wagon would be an understatement. There's a reason I haven't seen my cardiologist in ... 3 1/2 years. (I still have the appointment card in my wallet, which I just checked.) At the time, I was told I had to lose a bit of weight. Since I failed to do so, I canceled my checkup and haven't been back since. Not the best way to deal with my failure, I know.

On the plus side, I did buy a bicycle. I've ridden it four times. My next step is to visit a local exercise facility to investigate the possibility of working out there. I don't want to jump into things and exercise right away - this is more of a long-term planning opportunity.

I wonder if it's too late to sign up for next season's "Biggest Loser" ...

Insomnia

I couldn't sleep last night. Too many things racing through my mind and the weather being unnaturally warm both contributed to yest another sleepless night.

I'm sure some people do wonderous things when they have insomnia: Invent new technology, cure disease, write novels. For me, though ... I just watch TV. Despite having DirecTV and cable, there really isn't much on at 3am, though. That doesn't stop me from watching "Unbeatable Banzuke," "Truth or Scare" and old cartoons on Boomerang ... oh, and whatever reruns are on Food Network.

Last night, I wasn't in the mood to watch anything so I channel-surfed for 4 or 5 hours. While it gets repetitive, it's better if you make a game out of it. Try to find the same commercials airing slightly out of sync on two or more channels. (The mind goes a bit batty after too many nights without sleep.)

I've had insomnia for as long as I can remember, so I'm sure I'll be up again tonight or tomorrow watching Popeye battle Bluto and seeing if the Neko de Drive challenge can ever be completed.

At least I'll have something to watch.

Workplace dangers

Our office smells like burning rubber this morning. Combined with the lack of noticeable air conditioning, it's a bit concerning to my fellow office dwellers.

There's no sign the smell is toxic, but I like to believe that it is. I feel that if you always look for the worst possible outcome, there's a good chance that you'll be pleasantly surprised in life.

I think it's time to check out a laptop and work out under a tree somewhere on campus. Hmm, or maybe I could convince a few co-workers to make a trip to my favorite wi-fi destination - which opens in a couple of short hours.

Decisions, decisions ...

Reunion-a-go-go

It's that time again: My high school class is having another reunion. Should I go or should I skip it?

I went to the last one, which wasn't too bad. There was some weird goings on at the end, when one of the guys who went to school with us said we were all evil or something. I'm not exactly clear what happened but I seem to remember security asking him to leave after his rantings started to cause a scene.

It's now been way too many years, and I just don't have a desire to go. I'm not dead-set against it and I'm not excited - I'm really apathetic about the whole thing. Which, to me, means that I shouldn't go. If there was a strong emotion either way, then I'd attend.

Yes, I might be missing out on catching up with old friends. It would be nice to chat it up with some people and to see how they've been doing. Chances are, though, that it would be lots of awkward small talk in between any possible meaningful discussions. I've had far too many of those experiences with family get-togethers.

Plus, there's a horror movie convention in Detroit that weekend. Who would want to miss out on that?

Snacking error

Surprisingly, "Chocolate Mix Skittles" taste as bad as you would think.

I gave into the distractingly bright display box at the 7-11 counter and purchased a bag of the odd flavor and texture combination. But, once again, I was cruelly led astray by deceptive advertising.

I'll be putting the 3/4 full bag for sale on eBay.

Hey kids, try a career in the exciting realm of print journalism!

Being a reporter was fun - a lot of fun, actually. While I never got the chance to track down vampires and demons like my idol, Carl Kolchak, I had a blast covering the news.

That said, it was the perfect time to get out of the business. Take a look at this AP story:

DETROIT - The city's two major daily newspapers, in the face of industrywide financial difficulties and a troubled state economy, are offering buyouts to employees and shared business staff in a bid to cut at least 150 positions.
Buyouts will be offered to nonunion employees of The Detroit News and the Detroit Free Press as well as workers at their joint business operation. The offer might be extended to unionized workers as well, pending union approval.
The Detroit Media Partnership said Monday it wants at least 150 employees - about 7 percent of its overall work force - to take the buyouts or layoffs may follow.
"The Detroit Media Partnership faces unique challenges because of the state's business and economic climate," Free Press Publisher Dave Hunke, who also serves as chief executive of the partnership, said in a note to employees. "We must take several actions immediately."
In addition to the buyouts, the Free Press plans to eliminate its Twist magazine, which is distributed on weekends, and its Sunday Community Free Press sections. Elements from Twist will be folded into the Sunday features section.
Last fall, the partnership offered buyouts as it sought to cut 110 positions, about 5 percent of its overall staff.
To be eligible for the buyout offer, employees must be at least 45 and have worked at least 10 years as of the end of July. Those who take the deal will receive two weeks' pay for each year of service and extended health benefits.
Detroit Media Partnership manages the business operations of the Detroit Free Press and The Detroit News, including production, advertising and circulation, but the papers' newsroom operations are separate.
The Free Press is owned by Gannett Co., based in McLean, Va. The News is owned by MediaNews Group, based in Denver.

Yikes. Pretty scary news for my ex-colleagues who are still in the trenches. In the words of Dr. Egon Spengler: "Print is dead."

Why I hate Joseph Nicéphore Niépce.

While the idea of a photograph is amazing, it's just depressing in reality.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, your mind plays tricks on you, allowing you to see yourself how you imagine you look instead of how you really appear. Some people see themselves worse than they appear, others see themselves as better. In photos, though, there is no hiding what you look like.

Your friends will tell you, "Oh, that was taken from a bad angle," or other soothing comments to mend your bruised ego. Let's be honest, though: They're lying. You're not a piece of furniture - it's not a "bad angle," it's just how you look.

I tend to see myself as I looked just out of college. I don't see myself as I was in high school as many people tend to do - somehow, looking like a modern-day Ichabod Crane wasn't the most flattering stage. Seeing a photo of current Will, though, it's apparent I should be taking medication for my self-delusion.

How can we combat this intrusion of photo-cruelty? I propose a return to the practice of hiring artists to create portraits. I'll be commissioning one next week.

Hell on Earth

We all have our own personal hells. For some, it's being stuck in traffic. For others, it's going to the dentist.

For me, it's going to meetings. As a reporter, I went to a lot of meetings - city council, school board, planning commission ... all with a purpose, even if they did tend to drag on a bit too long. Since I was an observer and not a participant, I could pull out my cell phone at anytime and fake a call to leave. Now that I'm working in an office, skating out of a meeting is not so simple.

Meetings here tend to go very long and, as expected, accomplish very little. This morning, there was a 2 1/2 hour management meeting. The first hour or so - interesting and on-topic. The last hour and a half ... not so much. I spent the time drawing pictures on a piece of paper and digging my fingernail into my hand to stay awake.

One member of the management team was asleep during the last part of the meeting. (No one seemed to be paying attention to that, though.) I was excited when the "does anyone else have anything" portion started around the table. Sadly, two of the managers actually thought that was a cue to give lengthly monologues on what they had been doing for the past week. I thought for sure everyone knew that was the time to say, "Nope, I'm good," so we can all leave the coma-enducing meeting.

Here's how I schedule meetings. Fifteen minutes to discuss business - if you can't get the discussion done in that time, then we'll have to bring it up at a later meeting. The last fifteen minutes are spent discussing television programs. The end.

I hope to roll this plan out as a new Standard Operating Procedure for the division. I'll let you know how that goes.

Just strange

Over the last two summers, our local drain commissioner implemented a "rain gardens" development for our neighborhood. The job was a mess, took longer than expected and cost more than expected. So, of course, he won an award for it.

I lost about a foot of property all along the west side of my yard. (Well, not "lost" exactly - it's still there, but now it just slopes down into a ditch instead of being part of the lawn. There are wildflowers and native plants all along the road, which may look better than a regular ditch, and it is supposed to improve drainage from heavy rains.

Now to the strange part ...

During the last three weeks, I've caught two different older women digging flowers out of the rain garden next to my house. The first woman stopped in the road, pulled a hoe out of her backseat and dug out two large flowers. She put them in her car and drove away. She saw me looking - I had pulled into my driveway and was staring at her from my car, wondering why she was so taken with the flowers that she had to dig them up.

This past weekend, a woman pulled into my driveway, got out, and started digging flowers out of the rain garden. She had a giant carpet roll (I don't think anything or anyone was inside it) tied down in her open trunk. After 10 or 15 minutes, she got back into her car to leave. At that point, I opened my front door and looked out. I thought maybe she'd toss a courtesy wave at me or something to acknowledge that she was in my freaking driveway. However, she looked every which way except toward me as she sat in her car for a bit before backing out and driving down the road.

Now, I could be wrong, but these look like normal flowers. I'm no botanist, but I don't think they're special or unique. I guess they look nice, but I would have been just as happy with concrete-lined ditches instead of rain gardens. So I'm probably not the person to ask about the aestheics of wildflowers.

Should I have stopped the women? Or maybe I should have helped them pick the flowers? Maybe I'm not aware of the proper ettiquite for wildflower pickers or, as I call them, flower thieves.

Offices

Working at a newspaper, the hours were a bit odd. Sometimes you'd work very late, other days .... well, let's say things would even out.

Now that I'm working in a "real" office, the 8 to 5 schedule - going to meetings, sitting at a desk, always in the same building - can seem a bit odd. By "odd" I mean stifling. Yes, I know - many people work hard at an office every single day for their entire lives. I applaud those people but it's just not for me.

I think part of my unease about being inside all day comes from my dad. He worked for the state's Department of Transportation for 41 years. When I was younger, he told me he hated the days he had to go into the office. That was the day he'd have to fill out all of the paperwork and go to meetings. He would have much rather been out on the job, inspecting bridges or working with the crews.

At the paper, I set my own schedule. I'd work from home or on a laptop outdoors or at an establishment of my choice. I could conduct interview over the phone, do research and take photos - all without having to be in the office, meet with my bosses or get dragged into a discussion of which I want no part.

There were downsides to the newspaper job, of course, and I'll get used to the office.

But I still miss those "newspaper lunches" ...

Cash is dead.

You can't buy stamps at the Post Office.

Well, I should clarify that. You can't walk in with a handful of cash and use that machine to buy stamps. If you want to wait in line behind everyone mailing boxes to Uruguay, then you're still able to pay with cash.

I didn't want to do that, however (our office has a rather strict "lunch hour" rule). After reviewing the rules of the new debit/credit card only machine, I learned that I would have to buy a booklet of stamps. No single stamps for sale - that poses a problem, because I only need two stamps a month. I really didn't want to fork out $8 for a booklet.

Sufficiently perplexed, and still bemoaning the loss of the old machine, I left without buying any stamps. Hopefully, Consumers Energy doesn't need its payment anytime soon. (And no, I don't want to pay the $6 handling fee to pay the bill on-line.)